Mari's Mistake: A SciFi Alien Romance (Icehome Book 11)

by Ruby Dixon

  Fire. Sure. Fire seems practical. I clench my needy, grabby hands into fists so I don't squeeze his butt like a pervert. I revel in my sheer horniness, though. After months of feeling half-dead when I should be feeling the most alive, it's like everything's roaring back to me. I want my mate. I want to touch and lick him all over. I want to drop to my knees in front of him and drag my tongue all over his cock like a shameless wanton because I want to see the look in his eyes when I do.

  Fire is important, though. Not freezing to death right after the healers busted their asses is also important. So I squirm in place, divinely aware of the heat throbbing between my thighs and the fact that I can feel how wet I am when I shift my weight. My pussy is so slick that just that particular realization is turning me on even more, and I resist the temptation to shove a hand down my pants and touch myself while T'chai fusses with the fire.

  Finally, he straightens and makes a satisfied noise in his throat that would totally wet my panties if I were wearing some. His tail swishes with pleasure. "I think that will do it. Let me wash up and we will make the bed."

  "Cool," I say vaguely, trying to keep my shit together. Paciencia, Marisol, I remind myself. You have the rest of your lives together. No need to get all grabby the moment things return to normal.

  T'chai washes up in the water bowl on the counter of what must be their kitchen area. He dries his hands on a soft-looking towel and then turns to me, eyes glowing in the dim light. And he puts his hand out to me, a smile on his lips.

  He's so damn sexy—and I'm so turned on—that I forget everything I just told myself. I rush forward and drop to my knees in front of him, my fingers scrabbling at the ties of his leather leggings. "Want these off," I pant. "Now."

  T'chai's calm disappears and he groans, his hand stroking the top of my head and along the side of my face. "Mari? Are you…resonating?"

  I pause, my hands on his laces, and then shake my head. "No. Just really turned on." I look up at him with sheer relief and happiness. "You would not believe how wet I am right now."

  He sucks in a tight breath and his eyes grow heavy-lidded with arousal. "Let me touch you and see."

  "Later. Right now I want this." I pull his leggings down, exposing his cock. It springs up to meet me, the head flushed and full, and I know I'm not the only one that's been thinking naughty thoughts. I take him by the root of his cock and drag my tongue up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, whimpering at how good he tastes. He smells incredible, all musky and wonderful, and all of the bad feelings that used to hit me when I touched him are gone. I feel nothing but desire and hunger when I lick his cock, and it's such a relief and a delight that tears prick my eyes. I take the head of him into my mouth, teasing him with my tongue and loving that his hands go to my hair, clenching me in place.

  I want all of this. I want all of it a dozen times tonight. A hundred. I want to grab my mate by his horns and ride him until I pass out from exhaustion. I make a soft noise of pleasure in my throat and suck on his length like I would a popsicle, glancing up at him as I do. His eyes are blazing with heat, so beautiful as he gazes down at me.

  I love you, I want to tell him, even though my mouth is full. It's not just that I can touch him right now, I think, even as I caress his sac and take him deeper into my mouth. I love the way he chokes on his breath, his body so full of need. It's that this is the same man who patiently greased up a glove to make me come, all because he wanted to give me pleasure. This is the same man that held my hand on all the days that I cried, the same man who ate a fish head because he'd given me his dinner.

  I suck on the tip of him, hard, and then pull him deep, stretching my jaw until the head of his cock hits the back of my throat, and T'chai sucks in a breath. I work him with my mouth, our movements quick and furious, until T'chai can't take it any longer. He comes, shooting acrid, hot seed down my throat, and even as it spills over my tongue and down my chin, I'm so filled with joy that all I can do is laugh.

  "That…" He lets out a heaving breath, tracing the head of his cock over my wet, messy lips. His gaze is utterly entranced as I lick the head of him clean. I keep licking, like a kitten, because I don't want this moment to end. "That did not last nearly long enough."

  "Then it's a good thing we have all night," I murmur. "And tomorrow." I lick him again, grinning. "And the day after that. And the day after that."

  "You…" He clenches a fist over his chest. "I am not resonating. Are you?"

  I shake my head. I'm not. This feels different than resonance. The teeth-clenching edge of hunger isn't there. This is just me sharing my joy with my mate. "Not yet. This is just me being hungry for my mate." And I give him another teasing little lick with my tongue. "I'm not ready to be done, yet. Want to see if we can make you last longer next time?"

  I love the shudder that racks through his body, along with the eagerness in his eyes.

  Mine, I think fiercely, and I'm so, so glad my khui chose this male.

  24

  A week later

  MARI

  "Are you sure you want to give this to me?" I ask Megan, smoothing my hand down the pretty, pale yellow outfit I'm wearing. It's a matching tunic top and skirt, both dyed a rich, buttery shade, and there's decorative jagging along the sleeves and hemline that flutter in the slightest breeze. It might be the prettiest thing I've seen yet, and I twist and turn, admiring the zig-zag stitching along the collar and under the breasts to emphasize the figure. I feel delicate and airy, like an ice planet princess, in this thing, and I can't wait to show T'chai. He's going to love the sight.

  Across the fire from me, Megan smiles and shifts on her padded seat. She's got a braided leather project in her lap, but she pauses it often to rub her lower back. "Oh yeah. I made that a few years back and it hasn't fit right since I had Holvek. The boobs and hips just aren't the same." She pats her flank with a rueful expression. "It's just sitting around, so I figured I'd save it for someone else and it looks great on you."

  The leather's so soft it feels like suede—like T'chai's skin—and I can't stop petting it. "I love it. How can I thank you?"

  "Pfft." Megan waves a hand. "I'm just glad someone else can use it. No thanks necessary. It's—" She pauses as her son comes barreling into the hut.

  "Mama!" he bellows, holding an empty bowl. Behind him trots a little dvisti colt on three legs, the fourth tucked up tight against its furry body. It takes one look at me, bleats, and bounds over to Holvek's side. "Thunder's hungry for more, Mama!"

  "Thunder just ate," Megan protests as her son hands her the bowl. "Did you not see that big bowl of mash I made right after breakfast?"

  "Yes, but she's hungry again." Holvek tugs on her hand. "Help me feed her. Look at how hungry she is!"

  We all look over at the dvisti colt. It bleats like a baby lamb, flutters its little tail, and then begins to squat on the floor.

  Megan lets out a shriek of horror. "Holvek! Get her out of here before she pees again!" The boy rushes to grab his pet, giggling, and Megan gets to her feet. Her pregnant belly is prominent and round, though she swears she's not due for a few more months. She shakes her head at her son's delight and picks up the discarded bowl. "The only reason we haven't eaten that thing for dinner yet is because Holvek loves her so much," she whispers. "Farli housebroke Chompy easily, but I think Thunder is kind of stupid." She twirls a finger by her temples. "Elevator doesn't go all the way to the top on that one, but my boy just loves that damn thing." She sighs.

  I take the bowl from her, chuckling. "Well, if I can't pay you back for the dress, at least I can cook up some food for you."

  The pregnant woman gives me a grateful look and sits back down. I move over to her tiny kitchen area—something I don't really have in my hut—and get to work while we talk about the usual gossip. Everyone's surprised at how much Veronica's pregnancy is showing and who's going to have the next baby and who's resonated to who. Megan wants to know all the gossip on A'tam and Bridget, if they're still at odds (they are
) and she tsks at the fighting over Tia. "If I was seventeen and it was a beach of hot men, I'd do exactly the same thing," Megan confesses. "Those guys are adults and should know better."

  "I don't think they've been around enough teenage girls to know better, or it's been so long they've forgotten." I shrug, stirring the mixture I've made with her instruction. It's good to just hang around and chat about nothing at all. Everyone here in Croatoan is lovely—there's a family feel here more so than on our beach, like everyone's part of one big unit. I think about the squabbling tribes and the constant bickering back at Icehome and wonder if we'll ever get there or if we're too fractured.

  The women here are fantastic, though. Over the last week that we've been here, Veronica and I have been handed tons of baby clothes to bring back to the others, an entire bundle of toys for Z'hren, and more clothing for the men, and thick blankets. There's food “treats” to be brought back, lots of the hraku seeds that taste so sweet when cooked, and more root-cake concoctions. I even have a spindle from Tiffany, who showed me how to use it. She's managed to make a pretty ugly scarf with dvisti fur, and shows me how to roll the spindle against my leg and make a soft, delicate yarn. "It's a work in progress," she'd told me, "but maybe someone on the beach can have more luck with it and we can trade ideas."

  Right now, I'm at Megan's hut because she insisted on making T'chai a macrame belt. She's been working on a pattern that allows for loops for weapons and pouches, and her fingers move nimbly over the intertwined thongs. One of them is dyed red and it creates a fascinating pattern as its woven into the rest of the leather. There's so much we can learn from each other, I've realized, because the ideas one camp has aren't the same as the others. T'chai's spent a lot of time talking about fishing with the tribe here, since some of his ideas are different than theirs.

  Once the weather's nicer, maybe we'll all get together and meet somewhere in the middle for a big gathering. I make a mental note to suggest that to Vektal and Georgie before we leave.

  "Hmm," Megan says as I put the pot of gruel over the fire. "I have some pregnancy clothes from when I was pregnant with Holvek that don't fit anymore. Do you want them?"

  I hesitate. "I…don't need them yet."

  She gets up from her seat and gives me a little pat on the arm. "You will. I'll get them for you."

  So confident. I bite back a laugh, because our “secret” as to why we were coming to visit the healer stayed secret for less than a day. Ever since, everyone's been hugging us and offering advice and suggestions on how to “push” resonance in the right direction. I'm sure it's all nonsense, but since the healing, I've found I don't really mind. Everyone means well and wants us to be happy; I can't be mad about that. So I endure the well-meaning conversations with a smile on my face, and it's easy to do.

  Everything seems easier now.

  There's no resonance yet, a week in, but my khui hums pleasantly to T'chai's every time we get close to one another, so I know it recognizes his again. I'm not in a hurry. I figure there will be plenty of time for us to have babies and truly resonate. For now, I'm just thrilled I can touch my mate again without it sending bad signals to my brain. Instead, every time I see my mate, I'm struck by how handsome he is, how tall, how broad his shoulders are, how long his hair is, and it makes me incredibly turned on. It's like my khui's making up for lost time, because I can't keep my hands off of him. Whenever we're alone together, we're kissing and touching. The extra gloves we brought aren't needed at all, because just T'chai's smile makes me wet, and all it takes to get him alone for some quick, furtive sex is eye contact and me biting my lip. The moment that happens, T'chai excuses himself from whatever conversation he's having and we race to the hut to make love.

  It's like we're finally getting to have our newlywed period.

  And if there's no resonance between us again, I figure it'll come. In the meantime, I'll wait for it eagerly, like a kid waiting for Christmas.

  Just thinking about my handsome mate makes me miss him. I stroke my yellow dress again, thinking about how it's not quite as soft as the fuzzy feel of T'chai's skin, and the urge to find him is suddenly overwhelming. I clear my throat and look over at Megan. "I think I'm going to go find my mate. We're probably leaving tomorrow, so…I, uh, need to talk to him." I can feel myself blushing as if I'm the most obvious person in the world.

  Megan just gives me a knowing look. "I'll pack those maternity clothes for you. Swing by to pick them up whenever. And tell T'chai I said hello!"

  I grin and race out of her hut as if I haven't seen my mate in years, instead of just an hour or two ago. He's gone on several hunting day-trips with the other hunters of the Croatoan village, but never without saying goodbye to me first. He has to still be in the village somewhere, I suppose, and I walk at a brisk pace towards the outskirts, looking for a pair of familiar high-rise horns and my mate's long hair.

  "Oh, hey, Mari. There you are."

  I fight the urge to wrinkle my nose in frustration and turn. Georgie and Veronica are chatting on the main path, while a short distance away, Ashtar helps one of the elders butcher a fat kill. There's no sign of T'chai, so I skid to a stop and turn around. "Hey."

  "What a cute dress!" Veronica exclaims, petting my sleeve as I approach. "I love that. The yellow's so pretty and happy."

  "It looks good on you," Georgie says, rubbing her belly. "Megan, right?"

  I nod, trying not to notice how everyone in the village seems to be pregnant but me. "She said it didn't fit anymore and wanted to give it to me. I was going to show T'chai."

  "Uh huh." Veronica's lips twitch. "More like show him what's underneath."

  Georgie gives a ladylike snort.

  I just smile serenely, taking the good-natured ribbing. It's not like we haven't been completely and utterly obvious lately. Let them say what they want. I'm too happy to care.

  "I thought I'd let you know that we're packing up," Veronica continues. "Ashtar wants to leave in the morning provided the weather's nice, and Tia's settled in with Sevvah and Oshen. We figured we should be heading back, unless you can think of a reason to stay longer?"

  I think for a moment and shake my head. I wasn't entirely sure T'chai and I would be going back with them when they returned. The temptation to stay in Croatoan, where I've been so happy and carefree over the last week, is there, of course. But the beach is home, and I'm ready to see my friends again. "No unfinished business here."

  Georgie just shakes her head, looking tired. "You guys brought enough excitement for one brutal season, thanks."

  I feel a hint of guilt, because two nights ago, I broke the bad news about Earth to everyone. The women here took it well enough, with some tears and sadness, but they've been removed from Earth for years and years now. They aren't as outright devastated as my friends were. "It had to be said."

  "Oh, I'm not blaming you." Georgie reaches out and touches my shoulder, her expression weary. Her smile is tired, as if she hasn't been sleeping. "It's just a lot to absorb, even if we've all been resigned for years to the fact that we'll never see Earth again. It has to be a lot harder on your friends."

  "All the more reason to return," I admit.

  "And…resonance?" Veronica asks, arching her brows. "Anything yet?"

  "Not yet." I swear everyone's going to ask me today, I just know it…but I don't mind. They're not doing it with any maliciousness, and…it's not like I'm not thinking about it constantly myself. The pressure and worry is all gone, though, and all that's left is an easy acceptance. I haven't re-resonated yet, but I will. I know I will. "I was looking for T'chai, though. Have you seen him?"

  "He was talking with Zennek and Warrek about fishing over at the far end of the village," Georgie says, gesturing at the distant end of the cliffs that cradle the village deep in the crevasse. "But that was a short time ago. I'm not sure where he is now."

  "I'll go find him, then," I give them both a wave and walk away. I could stick around and keep chatting, but there's something urgent i
n my body that wants to find my mate now now now. It's because we can touch again, I think. We're insatiable for each other. Each time we come together seems faster and more urgent than the last, as if we have to get in as much sex as humanly possible before things die down to “normal.” Then again, I wonder if we'll ever have a “normal” or if we'll just be mad with lust forever.

  I'm kinda fine with that. It sure beats being La Llorona.

  I nearly get run down by a group of children racing through the cobbled street. There's several little girls in pigtails chasing a boy with what looks like a bird on top of his head. They push past my legs without a second glance, screaming and bounding after one another. That's one of the things the Icehome beach doesn't have yet, I realize—children just running everywhere. Liz's kids are there now, and Rukhar, but they tend to play quietly with Gren on the beach instead of carrying on like wildcats through the village like they are here. Maybe things will be different in a few years, when we've all had a few kids and turned into a more settled group. Or maybe we'll all eventually move here and join them and make just one big group. Who knows.

  A little girl toddles past the group, her thumb in her mouth. She's got deep brown hair pulled into two curly knots atop her head, her horns little nubs on her brow, and her cheeks are plump. She sucks on her thumb, her other small hand extended as if she's silently calling for the others to come back. A moment later, one of the older girls—no more than six or seven in age, if I had to guess—races back and takes the little hand, dragging her sister along with them. It's the sweetest sight and makes me ache. I wonder if T'chai would like a girl or a boy? I think about him holding a little one with dark pigtails and his camouflage and my heart melts.

  Man, I sure do have babies on the brain. It must be because they're everywhere here in this village, and all of the women seem to be fertile as hell. That has to be it.